Mahmoud Darwish, from Memory for Forgetfulness: August, Beirut, 1982 (tr. Ibrahim Muhawi)
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@simpleandordinary
Mahmoud Darwish, from Memory for Forgetfulness: August, Beirut, 1982 (tr. Ibrahim Muhawi)
I just like this song because it sounds good. I don’t even know the words lol
Do you ever hear a song and can’t place it but then your mouth starts singing the right words?
Thinking about how I hate being in photos (I’m typically behind the camera, anyway), which is almost certainly a learned behavior from generations of women (and eldest daughters) I’ve looked up to vocally opposing having their photos taken. Also thinking about how dumb it is that I usually think photos of me are horrible when they’re taken and then, when I look back on them, I wish I looked that good now. What the fuck, brain?
A weird three-legged race toward self-improvement
Resolutions are too hard so I decided to change how I approach them. I saw a friend post about how her goal was to integrate one small new habit into each month so that she’d hopefully end 2021 with 12 small improvements to her life. I loved that idea.
I started January with the goal to make the bed each day (doesn’t have to be the morning, just made before I go to sleep because I love getting into a made bed). In February my goal was to get out of bed by 7:30. In March, my goal is to do some kind of physical activity three times a week.
I haven’t been perfect with any of these. Like, not even close. I’d say my bed-making success rate is like 70%. And waking up by 7:30 is probably at the 30% mark. At the beginning of March, I was trying to walk 3x a week and was failing miserably. Like maybe I got out the door once in two weeks.
I guess this is like an origin story of my sister-morning-workout set up, because I’m basically using them to hold myself accountable for new habits #2-3.
But I think it’s also important (patting myself on the back here) to be really forgiving of yourself when you’re trying new things. Shit’s hard. I want so badly to be perfect that I’m constantly derailing myself with negative thoughts.
I think my previous post speaks a little to the journey I’ve been on with self forgiveness, or better yet, overcoming the fear of getting started and then doing it badly. And then doing it again, and badly. I’m really bad at that. And recently, I I’ve realized that I can’t do it on my own. I have to lean on others to hold me up and keep me stepping forward toward my goals.
It’s kind of like a weird three-legged race toward self improvement.
Burned Out
I worked 18 hour-days Monday and Tuesday this week finishing papers and dealing with clinical work (which I love doing, but it has a way of nickel and dime-ing your time with small but important tasks). I also had assignments due Saturday and Sunday, so neither was a day of rest. Today I need to study for my midterm at the end of the week and I haven’t brought myself to even start.
I did get up this morning with my sisters. We took the day off from a workout and did stretches instead. I made my coffee, sat down at 9 am to get to work and just...didn’t.
So here we are, almost 1:30 pm. I made the conscious choice to end up on Tumblr. I worked hard and I want to spend a few minutes looking at memes and writing my feelings without guilt looming over me.
Is this self care?
I’ve seen Glass Animals in concert twice and was so bummed that this album’s release coincided with a pandemic. It’s so good. I’ve been satisfying my concert cravings imagining this song live at an outdoor venue on a July night.
How to Get Up at 7 AM
My sisters and I decided to keep each other accountable and do 20 minute YouTube workouts at 7:30 am, three days a week, Skyping while we sweat together. We were going to do 8 am (which somehow feels way more reasonable than 7:30), but my middle sister is in med school and has class at 8 most days. So for the sake of camaraderie and accountability, we’re doing 7:30.
It’s only been a week of this, but we’ve successfully had our 20-minute exercise moment every time we scheduled it. This week we’re upping our goal to include a 20-minute walk or jog on a couple of our off days.
Normally, I spiral the night before and the morning of an early morning workout. Or even a mid-day or evening workout. I talk myself out of it because it’s hard and time consuming, and obviously I don’t have the time to waste 20 minutes in the morning when I have two papers due and a midterm to prep for.
The reality though, is that I don’t use those 20 minutes to write my papers or study. I sleep and procrastinate, slowly spiraling into a panicked paralysis. My youngest sister and I share this trait to some extent. My middle sister does a better job of channeling anxiety into action.
But anyway, I recognized last week that I needed to get up in the morning and exercise. I haven’t been sleeping well and I feel gross and uncomfortable in my body. I wake up in the morning and take six steps from my bed to where my desk is and sit there for 12 hours, then go to bed at night. For almost a year, I’ve been doing this. I guess many people are experiencing the same thing these days.
So I messaged my sisters and asked them if they would exercise in the morning with me and what it would take for us to be successful. They immediately agreed. It’s only been a week, and I already feel a lot better.
And the truth is, today (because it was Sunday and no one had classes) we didn’t work out until 8:15. My phone died in the middle of the night and I overslept. Actually, all week we failed to start on time because of me. Every time my alarm went off this week, I snoozed. I didn’t wake up at 7 AM. I woke up at 7:25 and got in extra cardio running around squeezing into a sports bra and yanking my yoga mat out of the closet.
What I’m trying to convey, essentially, is that today I finally started to understand how doing something poorly is better than doing nothing at all.
It’s almost been a year of Quarantine
Maybe I should have started this blog to document a hellish 2020, but here we are instead a year later. I haven’t left my house in four days. My final year of law school ends in just over two months. I’m sitting at my desk, staring out the back window onto an alleyway with a bowl of steaming ramen that’s too hot to eat just yet. Life is pretty hard right now. But the March sunshine today is promising. There are already daffodils pushing through the soggy ground, and maybe some will be in bloom today. I should go for a walk and see.